Clothes are so bothersome. But when I was a kid it was different. Mum put us kids to bed with pajamas on, which was the normal thing to do. But one day, and I can't remember when, I made the decision to change that.
It wasn't anything daring nor exciting, because childhood is both absolutely and purely innocent. I just suddenly began to feel uncomfortable, and hot, squirming around and turning over with all that material stifling my skin.
So I waited till Mum had left the bedroom, quietly stripped off, and neatly folded my bedclothes on the foot of the bed. It just felt more free and relaxing to wear nothing. And I fell asleep more easily. Mum never said anything in the days thereafter. But I had claimed a new normal for myself.
We left the old childhood house, and lived at Grandma's for a time while our new home was being built. High school coincided with intense training at the town pool, so my young life was full and busy. Dad often drove us kids up to the high school again, a couple of evenings per week, for some heavy duty long-distance running. This was part of our training regimen for the swimming.
The school had been built on top of a little hill, with sweeping downslopes of grassland falling away beneath it. At each of the far western and eastern edges of the property there were lines of English pines that had been planted. These were each perhaps five to eight hundred yards long, and in a double row. They were mature enough that the inner branches met and formed a partial avenue in between, while the outer branches easily swept down to not far from the ground.
We would start at the car park right by the back of the southern side of the school buildings, and run alongside the decorative stone wall that bordered the garden. When we reached the first set of pines to the west, we would turn and run on the soft carpet of pine needles inside that avenue, down until we reached the bottom of the hill.
Down there, and right across to and along the far northern edge of the sporting fields we would pant. Then we would turn once more, and up the long slog through the eastern set of pines we would go, puffing all the way. Finally, we took the last turn and streaked defiantly back along the top to the car park, while catching a second wind. The whole training exercise took roughly twenty-five minutes, and we would run it two or three times in succession per night!
After we left Grandma's house we had moved into our brand new home in the new subdivision at the back of the high school. It was actually more correctly situated to the east of the school, and somewhat less than a half mile beyond the outer edge of that eastern line of pines. I finished high school living in that house, while being able to walk easily back and forth between the two every day.
There then came a couple of years where I worked for a bit until I turned eighteen. I was still figuring out what to do with myself. After I came of age I hit an inflection point in my personal discoveries too. The masturbation that year in my bed, to a hidden copy of a Playboy magazine, soon became not nearly enough.
I began my new quest by standing up nude in the dark on the hardwood floor of my bedroom. The ceiling to floor windows were covered by thick drawn curtains. I would part these slightly at first to look out onto our un-fenced backyard at the rear of our block. There was still a lot of unclaimed space across the subdivision, between us and the older houses a few lots over and up the street.
In the depths of midnight I would slip my body partially between the curtains wondering, hoping, yet afraid if someone might see me! Some of the houses in the distance had front windows that faced directly toward the back of our house and my bedroom. My mind would race thinking whether some girl I had known, from way back when, would glimpse me now - and my hardening cock!
Over many nights I gradually became more courageous and adventurous. Leaving a crack the full width of my body between the curtains, I would face outward against the glass and play with myself. With only the gleam of the remote streetlights, or a crescent moon sometimes, I became more sure of myself - while still secretly hoping to be found out! These wilder thoughts led me to cumming all over the window pane.
Yet it wasn't enough. I still didn't get caught. At least I thought no one had seen. It would have been so cool if a girl my age or an older lady from up the road had one day came and just told me that they knew, and that it excited them! But nothing happened.
So of course I resolved, and needed, to do more! Some nights I would wait till everyone in the house was long gone asleep. Then I would creep down the hallway naked, and ever so quietly sneak out the back door. We kept the backyard grass neatly mowed. So I would sit down on that lovely soft surface and open my legs wide and point them right out in front of me.
Back then I wanked differently too. I had never seen nor heard of how to do it, so I had just figured it out on my own! My special method was to peel my foreskin right back, then use the palms of my hands to cradle the sides of my cock openly between them.
With almost outstretched arms I would hold my hot dick vertically, and then roll it sideways between my open palms, back and forth like an unshaped sausage being formed. One palm pumped outward, while the other pulled inward, as my shaft shifted motion like an electric engine in a rapidly rotating magnetic field. I would rub that thing out in a frantic swivel, like I was trying to use a big old fat fire stick to catch my pubes on fire! My wank off really was a high-rpm blur of crankshaft-breaking commitment.
Sitting down yet sitting up on that grass in the dead of night, with outstretched legs and outstretched arms, I became totally entranced in the moment. With a frenzy of fast-sliding palms, rubbing cock body and sensitive glans ridges at the same time, I could've missed what I had come outside to see. I never knew if some female, peeking out through her front venetian blinds from not so far away, might have witnessed the instant my volcano blew that white lava skyward and onto the lawn. But I always hoped I gave someone a hot memory.
Again, I needed my naked nights to be something more! So I fantasized and came up with a step by step plan. I would leave the house the next night fully clothed. I would walk up through the partly-built subdivision and on up through the farmland bordering the back of the high school. I would step through the gap in the barbed-wire fence, and enter into that avenue of pines.
When it became time for my plan to be executed the excitement built quickly. It was hard to listen for the creak of the back door of our house being closed. My racing heart and the blood rushing in my ears was almost all I could hear. The spot in front of the tip of my cock, strained in my bikini underpants, already felt like it might wet itself right through to my jeans. A young man's lust loves a high bar.
The moon was full, and I could clearly be seen by anyone in the neighborhood. But that was partly the plan. Although I wouldn't be anywhere nearby home, or them, tonight. On, up through the night, the neighborhood, the farmland, and toward the pines, I went.
